Page 15 of Minor Trouble
When I got there, my son sat on the sofa, headphones clamped over his ears, eating cereal out of a box as he loaded up his game. I sucked in a breath. Since he’d arrived, I hadn’t pulled the heavy father shit, because I honestly didn’t know how to. But now looked like the time. I stood between him and the television, effectively blocking his view, and folded my arms across my chest.
“There will be plenty of time for games later. You should do your homework first.”
Noah shook his head and pulled a face. I gestured to him to take the headphones off, refusing to move until he finally did his face sullen. “I don’t have any.”
“Bullsh—” I stopped myself. While it was probably the right response, it wasn’t theappropriateresponse. “That can’t be true,” I said instead. “Where’s your school bag?”
He didn’t stir, so I picked it up from beside the sofa and emptied the contents onto the cushion next to him. The usual crap a thirteen-year-old boy had mingled with textbooks and folders. I tried to locate his schedule which Ms. Coren would have given him, hoping it would give me some indication of what the hell was going on. Spying the crumpled sheet in amongst some empty chip packets, I grabbed it and straightened it out.
“You must have some math homework. There was always math homework.”
“Nope.”
“Science then. A project you’re doing with someone? I thought you mentioned a friend you were studying with?”
His face flushed, and he looked down into his lap, the cereal box suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.
Aha!I’d found a way in. “Do you need to study with your friend this weekend?”
Noah’s head snapped up. “I don’t need to do anything this weekend. I don’t have any homework.” The sulky tone was back, the fleeting insight into his first week at school gone.
“Come on, I don’t want to be having this conversation on Sunday night when you tell me you’ve got a paper due first thing Monday.”
“Then don’t talk to me.”
The words stung. I was trying. The least he could do was the same. “Noah, come on.”
He slipped his headphones back on and reached for his handset. The way he looked through me told me our conversation was over.
Defeated, I blew out a breath, clueless as to what to do. Leaving him to his game, I went back down to the garage.
Maddox and Lyla were wrapped around each other, oblivious to the fact I’d come back.
“Don’t mind me,” I called. “Pretend I’m not here.”
Without breaking his lip contact from Lyla, Maddox waved a hand. A tinge of jealousy shot through me. Oh, to have someone I could share the Noah situation with. The closest thing I had was Ainsley Coren. I glanced over at her car. If I got it sorted, maybe I could talk to her about Noah and get some advice. The first step, though, was admitting I’d been behind with work, and she wouldn’t get her car back until after the weekend. Sucking in my lips, I went into the office and sat down at the desk, sorting through the customer sheets until I found hers. Finding her number, I dialed and waited.
“Hi, this is Ainsley.”
Her tone was light and cheery. I could guarantee it wouldn’t be by the end of the call.
“Oh, hello, this is Seth Hudson. From Riley’s Garage.” I didn’t know why talking to her made me nervous. I’d called a million clients before and this should be no different. However, I hadn’t had inappropriate thoughts about a customer like I had with Ainsley.
“Noah’s dad. Yes, I remember seeing you at school on Monday. Although it seems an awfully long time since I last saw my car.” Her words had an edge to them, and more guilt kicked in me.
“Um, yeah, sorry about that.”
“Can I pick it up this afternoon?” Hope filled her voice.
“Sorry, no. It’s not ready.”
She huffed out a sound. “Does that mean it’s going to be more expensive?”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Well, I haven’t exactly checked it out yet, so I can’t tell you now.”
“Right.”
One word, loaded with disappointment. It brought back all sorts of memories of being in trouble at school and seeing the guidance counselor. I wished I hadn’t waited. I wished I’d worked on the car straight away. I wished my life hadn’t changed so fucking dramatically in the last few weeks that I didn’t know which way was up.
